Moving On
by Airhead259
Summary: Oneshot, drabble. Two men dwell on their memories of the past. [Twelve Shots of Summer]


_It took me a while to come up with an idea for this week's theme ,"Too Far Gone", but once I did the words just kept flowing. As a result, this is more of a drabble than an actual oneshot, since it tends to ramble and I've proofread it so many times that I don't know if it makes sense to people outside the fandom. Still, considering I missed last week's theme (bringing my count up to two so far...I'm such a failure) I'm just glad I managed to write something at all. Anyway, I hope this is still enjoyable in some way._

_I also found this a good excuse to write some Snow/Hope bonding, and their dialogue was really fun to write. I should really write more conversations between the two of them!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own FFXIII or its characters._

* * *

Moving On

Snow awakens in a cold sweat.

In an instant, he casts a well-practiced arm into the darkness, bringing it back with a familiar object clenched tightly in his fist – a small, simple necklace. He clutches it close to his chest and takes a deep, calming breath, hoping that it will ease his suffering.

It does not help much.

"Serah," he mutters, gazing at the pendant in his large hand. It is shaped like a planet – Cocoon, their former home. He finds himself remembering happier days; days spent lazing around Bodhum – his hometown – spending time with his best friends. The memories that stand out most are those with Serah in them – her smile, her laugh, the way she always clasped her hands behind her back when she spoke. He remembers it all, but the memories bring him nothing but pain.

Because Serah, his one and only, has been dead for centuries now.

Too long has it been since the world was first flooded with Chaos. Snow is now the leader of an entire city, responsible for hundreds of lives. Yusnaan has grown, and the daily festivities have become larger and greater. And yet, the only thing he can think about is _her_.

'_She would've loved the fireworks…we could've eaten at the Banquet of the Lord every night…maybe gone dancing every now and then…'_

With such thoughts preying on his mind every day, it is no wonder that the nightmares have begun to come again. He sees her die before his eyes, or watches her turn to crystal yet again, just as he did hundreds of years ago. Sometimes, he relives their first meeting, and it comes like a breath of fresh air – she laughs at each of his jokes and appears to enjoy his company, but always stays just out of his reach. Yet, he cannot help but fall in love with her all over again.

And every time he gives his heart to her, he already knows that he is too far gone.

xxxxx

"I had another dream about Serah," he tells Hope when they meet days later, at a small tavern in Yusnaan. It is midday and the revelries are in full-swing, but neither of them feels the urge to join in. The young researcher has been hard at work on a secret project of sorts, and it has been a long time since the two of them last met up for a casual conversation.

Hope takes a sip from his drink – water is what he insists on having, not wanting to end up inebriated, considering the fate of their Chaos-infested world and its denizens rests on his shoulders. "You've been having these dreams for a while, haven't you?" he asks, trying to meet Snow's hesitant gaze as it remains focused on their table.

The burly man simply nods. "They came every night, right after I found out that she was…gone. But they'd stopped for a while, and now they've started up again, clear as day."

When Hope remains silent, he continues. "I thought…I was stronger than this. I thought I could deal with it, after all these years…but it's too hard. Because in the end…" He bangs his fist against the table. "In the end, I couldn't protect her."

"None of us could," Hope replies, reaching across the table to pat his friend's shoulder. "Noel was with her at the time, but even he was helpless. Did you manage to talk to him about this?"

Snow shakes his head. "Nope. He's been busy, wading through Luxerion's streets and trying to keep the peace. Kid's got enough on his plate as it is, after everything that's happened up until now."

The scientist nods. "We've all been busy, and as a result, we've drifted apart." With a sigh, he adds, "Once Sazh left for the Wildlands after what happened to Dajh…things just got worse, didn't they?"

"This world is rotting as we speak, and it's taken centuries for that to sink in." Snow takes a swig from his mug and sets it down in an unusually gentle manner – one that surprises even himself. "At this point, we might as well give up. Sis isn't coming back, Vanille and Fang are still trapped in crystal, and Serah is…dead." He chokes on the last word, clenching his free fist.

"Light _will_ come back," Hope insists. "And Vanille and Fang…they'll wake up soon enough. We've just got to keep waiting-"

"What use is waiting?!" Snow yells, standing up suddenly. The rest of the bar's occupants turn their attention to him instantly as he reaches into his pocket and places a handful of Gil next to his mug.

"What use is waiting…" he whispers, his shoulders slumped. "…when the person you care about most isn't coming back?"

Hope is left speechless as Snow, Lord Patron of Yusnaan, turns around and walks out of the tavern.

xxxxx

The young researcher makes his way back to his base of operations with a heavy heart. He had been hoping for a more pleasant conversation with Snow, considering how long it has been since their last meeting, but after seeing the man in his current state of mind, he is not reassured.

'_If we, the world's leaders, start showing weakness, what can we expect from our citizens?' _he wonders as he steps out of the train and walks down the station steps, heading towards his home. Within minutes, he is unlocking the front door. With a tired sigh, he lets himself in, dumping his things on the floor and collapsing on the couch in the living room. His mind is buzzing with thoughts of his friend, of the fate of the world, and of the Chaos that is slowly consuming everything. He desperately needs a break, and so he decides to take a short nap to clear his mind.

But sleep does not come. Instead, he lies awake, staring blankly up at the ceiling in a feeble attempt to push away his thoughts. Then, he sees something out of the corner of his eye – a faint glimpse of something straight out of his past. Shooting upright, he glances around the room in search of it, but it is gone. Biting his lower lip in frustration, he brings a hand to rest against his forehead, forcing his eyes shut.

It has been happening for a while now, and he is sure that it is not a good sign. After spending so much time trying to find a way to help humanity, the visions have claimed him as well. His co-workers were lost in the same way – the last thing each of them mentioned was a vision of a "rose-haired phantom", and then they were gone, possibly spirited away by the specter. At the time, he could not dismiss the possibility that it could actually be a ghost, but now, he begs whatever entity still sustains the world for that not to be the case.

Because he knows now, without a doubt, that the person in his visions is _Lightning_.

He sees her watching over him, a small smile on her face. He sees her gliding through the various rooms in his house, or occasionally sharpening her gunblade, or even just leaning casually against a wall. But whenever he turns his head to look in her direction, she is gone.

'_Does this mean that she is…dead? And why haunt me, and not anyone else?' _

He cannot bring himself to tell the others of his visions – not even Snow, who can relate most to his situation – and he does not want to believe that she is the same phantom who was responsible for his comrades' disappearance. Instead, he wants to believe that it is a sign of her imminent return. The visions grow more vivid by the day, and he often finds himself lost in a swirl of memories, unable to tell reality apart from his past, until he catches himself and returns to the present.

The visions will only get worse from here on out – he knows that for certain. And yet, he refuses to search for a cure, for fear that once they stop, he will no longer be able to see Lightning again. He has spent years, centuries, waiting for her return, and if this is his only gateway to her, he will continue to wait for an eternity.

xxxxx

The next evening, Hope receives a phone call from Snow. Within a few hours, he is on the next train to Yusnaan.

"Thanks for coming all the way out here again, buddy," Snow tells him, a grateful smile on his face. Their rendezvous point is much classier this time around – they are seated at a table for two in a restaurant in the Augur's Quarter, watching the nightly performances. Yusnaan's Patron has ordered a three-course dinner, and Hope wonders what the occasion is as their main course is placed in front of them.

As they dig in, Snow announces, "From now on, I'm gonna try to move on. Get over Serah, maybe find someone new."

Hope drops his fork in shock. Never before has he heard the burly man speak about Lightning's younger sister in such a flippant way. "Wh-what happened to you?!" he whispers harshly. "Just yesterday you were pining over her, and now you've decided to move on? These things don't happen overnight, Snow!"

"I know, I know," Snow insists, slicing a large chunk of meat off his steak and shoving it into his mouth. "But I thought, 'It's time to make a change', y'know? To be a new and improved Patron." He spreads his arms out in a dramatic gesture, but Hope is not impressed.

"Something's wrong, isn't it?"

The Patron's grin falters at his friend's statement. "It's nothing," he says, waving his free hand. Then, he looks out over the crowd that has turned up to witness the Augur's Quarter's latest attraction – the Song of the Saviour: a play dedicated to the person who is rumoured to descend upon their world and rescue its people from the Chaos. Hundreds of people are smiling and cheering, and he cannot help but smile as well. "I just…wanna be happy again. Living in the past hasn't done much good for me, and if Yusnaan's leader isn't happy, how can his people be happy, right?"

The scientist acknowledges his statement with a small shrug – after all, it is not too different from his own opinion. Snow continues. "So from now on, I'm gonna try to move on, and help the people out a little more. Make things even more exciting, so the rest of us can celebrate the end of the world with smiles on our faces."

"I guess I can't argue with that logic," Hope finally says. "But are you sure you'll be alright?"

"Hey, Sis said it so herself once – I'm too stubborn to die. I'll be fine."

Snow's response throws him off, in part because of his mention of Lightning, but mostly because of the fact that he is quoting something so irrelevant. Not once has Snow said anything about dying, and Hope is suddenly worried that he is hiding something, but before he can pry any further, Snow asks, "And what about you? Are you doing okay?"

The question catches him off guard. "W-why'd you ask?"

His friend looks at him with a concerned expression on his face. "I dunno, you seem out of it; then again, I hardly see you any more so I could be wrong." He lets out a short laugh. "I hope you're getting enough sleep, kiddo."

"I'm not a kid," he scowls, which makes Snow laugh even harder. In a way, he is grateful for the distraction. It saves him from telling the burly man the truth; that he is anything _but_ okay. The rest of their dinner is spent over casual conversation, and he is glad that things are relatively back to normal.

That night, during the train ride home, he thinks about how their roles have been reversed. Snow is now the concerned friend, and he has become the one haunted by the past. But unlike him, Hope refuses to run from his visions. No matter what happens, he cannot let go.

He cannot afford to, not when he is _so close_ to seeing her again.

xxxxx

Many days later, another vision of the rose-haired phantom rouses him from his sleep. He follows the specter out of his house, through the streets, and far away from civilization. She beckons him along in a way that is most _unlike_ the Lightning he knows and remembers, and yet he follows without a word. He knows that he is too far gone, but if it will allow him to see the real Lightning once again, even for an instant, he will take his chances.

'_Wait for me, Light. I'll find you, no matter what it takes.'_

* * *

_This whole "ending on a dialogue" thing is starting to weaken my endings now..._

_This fic was a bit tricky for me to write, since I haven't had a chance to read through the novel translations thoroughly just yet. I wanted to show these two essentially "pining" over the Farron sisters and how they deal with memories of the past in different ways. While Snow tried his best to brush it aside for the time being, Hope clung to his memories in a near-obsessive way that could be considered unhealthy. I didn't use as many words as I would have liked to in order to convey these points, but I hope it worked out somehow! Please tell me what you think!_


End file.
